


Wait, What?

by Nitrobot



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Drunk Sex, F/M, Morning After, One Night Stands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 09:57:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6001711
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nitrobot/pseuds/Nitrobot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Optimus wakes up next to Twirl after a drunken night of celebration.</p><p>...wait, what?</p><p>
  <s>Also happy Valentine's day I guess, psssfffht</s>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wait, What?

**Author's Note:**

> Long story short, a friend of mine ships Optimus and Twirl cause she's a lil weird like that. And never let it be said I don't treat my friends well.
> 
> ...seriously though, Emmy, what?

It wasn't the first time Optimus awoke with his processor splitting itself in half, but it was the first time he had a tiny bundle of pink protoform coiled on his bare chest, hazy blue optics blinking slowly up at him as his sluggish systems tried to reboot.

"Mooooorniiiiiing~" the femme trilled, waving her legs in the air as one digit circled the space over his dully throbbing spark. Chestplates much bigger than should have been sensible for her frame swelled underneath her against his pecs, rising in time with his own heavy vents as her wings fluttered against each other. And though she had her battlemask deployed, it was obvious she was smiling.

' _Why do I seem to have a thing for femmes in pink armour?'_ he asked himself.

"Um... good morning to you too, Twirl." Optimus tried to suppress a groan as his taut cables protested against his attempt to lift up from the berth. His glossa was heavy and sour with a hangover as he dragged it along his dry lips, and his optics stung even in the dim light of his quarters. His protoform shivered even against Twirl's strange warmth, and he thought he saw his armour piled up against a wall among much smaller pink plating. 

"You look surprised..." Twirl chirped, sliding her digit from his chest down across his abs, pausing just above where his codpiece opened up underneath her aft. "But you feel hard." She giggled as her helm lolled and a blush overtook the rest of the heat simmering in Optimus' internals. Morning arousal truly was the bane of every single mech's existence.

"May I ask... what happened previous night?" It was obvious enough to him, but he needed confirmation for his hangover-fuzzed processor.

"Don't tell me you can't remember!" Twirl's pout was all in her whine and she started circling around the base of his naked spike. "It was the Autobot-Decepticon truce party, you drank the rest of the high grade, told me how cute I looked... and then you carried me back here, where we..." She giggled as she wiggled her aft knowingly, and all Optimus could think of was how on Earth he managed to fit inside a Minicon even drunk as he must have been.

The party he remembered enough of; with Megatron defeated, Soundwave took over his throne with Airachnid and agreed to peace between their two factions. His last clear memory was a three way drinking contest between himself, Soundwave and Wheeljack. "I see..." he said slowly.

Something in his tone or his tender optics must have told Twirl the true depth of his confusion. As she sat up her wings drooped and her optics flickered sadly. "Did you... not enjoy it?" she asked quietly. Even her teasing on his stiff spike ceased as her servos pulled back up to her chest, almost protectively covering herself.

Optimus breathed in slowly, only now noticing a faint plume of perfume entering his vents. "I cannot honestly say, as I do not recall." He couldn't bring himself to lie to spare her feelings, no matter how fragile they were. 

That is, until her optics started to film over with coolant.

"Twirl, please, I did not mean to upset you..." Optimus rushed to explain, forcing himself to sit up as he softly cupped Twirl's quivering faceplate. "Try to understand my current situation. As leader of the Autobots, it is... inappropriate that I consort with a Decepticon this way." He used his thumb to wipe away a budding tear from under her left optic. "No matter how...cute she is."  
That much was true, at least. As far as Decepticons went, she was adorable. Hearing him admit it seemed to flip Twirl's spark from aching to beaming again. Her servos fell into a demure pile over her knees, pressing her chestplates together. 

"I get it, Optimus." Though her voice was still quiet, it was also infinitely more content. "I'm... sorry for making things awkward." Her mask pulled back, revealing a small smiling mouth that leaned forward to kiss his cheek. He tried not to stare as her chestplates brushed under his chin. "I had fun, anyway," Twirl sighed. "And I promise I won't tell anyone else about this. Pinky promise." She held up her smallest digit before clambering off of him, strangely light even for her small size, and picking her way towards her strewn armour on the floor.

"Well, Twirl..." Optimus said before he could stop himself, now fully aware of the discomfort in his erect spike as he watched the femme's aft sway with her tiny steps. "You don't have to leave just yet-"

Any remaining air in his vents hissed out as Twirl threw herself back on top of him, pushing his face into the soft billowing embrace of her chest while squealing, "YAAAAAAY!"


End file.
